


among the constellations

by hyunwooseokjin



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Trek, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, slightly jaebeom-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24000268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyunwooseokjin/pseuds/hyunwooseokjin
Summary: Jaebeom was a child of the stars, but he was also a child of tragedy and heartache.alternatively:Youngjae remains connected to Jaebeom through the stars.
Relationships: Choi Youngjae/Im Jaebum | JB
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	among the constellations

**Author's Note:**

> my first 2jae! 
> 
> i've loved these two for a long, long time but this is the first time i've decided to really write something for them. i recently rewatched star trek (aos) and it inspired me to revisit an old idea i wanted to work on. if you've read any of my other works, you'll know i'm a serial angst writer, so pls know i'm sorry for putting these sweethearts through this. lmao
> 
> so, i hope you enjoy! ♡

_“Five years ago today, a great sacrifice was made.”_

Jaebeom slowly got up from bed, not even bothering to check the time. He didn’t even spare the phone on his nightstand a glance, knowing full well that he’d be faced with an onslaught of messages from his friends. Some of his bones cracked as he stretched, and the soft pitter-patter of the rain against the floor-to-ceiling windows of his housing filled his ears. Of course it had to be raining on Remembrance Day; he couldn’t help but feel annoyed at how it felt like an unnecessary cliché. 

The ceremony unfolded the way that it always had for years. Jaebeom spared the broadcast a quick look, still finding it distasteful even after all this time—it was always the moment they replayed the ship’s last few transmissions to its home planet that he couldn’t stomach the most. As the clock struck the exact hour of the ship’s destruction and the attendees bowed their heads in silence, Jaebeom knew he couldn’t be around for what was next. He stepped out of his housing before the Admiral could read any of the names of the fallen.

_“Heroes all. Never forgotten.”_

—

The hiss of the door’s hydraulics told Jaebeom that he was no longer alone in the observatory’s planetarium. He almost smiled to himself but the day’s events and what it meant to Starfleet, to Earth, to _him_ was enough to stop him. 

“Over here, Youngjae.” He called out from where he was seated on the floor in the center of the room, looking up at the projections on the ceiling. He’d spoken quietly, but his voice echoed in the large, empty dome.

“I knew I’d find you here, hyung.” A soft voice from behind him called out, accompanied by the soft clicking of shoes against the marble tiles. Jaebeom only answered with a low hum, hoping it was enough to indicate that while he appreciated the company, he wasn’t in the mood to talk, not really, but he knew Youngjae and he knew how stubborn he was. That’s why he always sought to accompany Jaebeom during Memorial Day—the day the USS Kelvin crashed against the Narada, the day Jaebeom lost his father.

“Jinyoung-hyung’s been pestering me non-stop the entire day.” Youngjae continued as he situated himself next to Jaebeom, also sitting on the cold marble floor and looking up at the displayed stars and planets overhead. “I guess babysitting you on Memorial Day has become my official duty.” 

Jaebeom snorted as he faced the younger man. “Babysitting?” 

“I should be getting paid.” Youngjae took off his coat and piled it atop Jaebeom’s on the floor. The older tilted his head, a slightly-amused expression painted on his face. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

A comfortable silence fell between them. 

“So.” Youngjae began, eyes turning back to the ceiling, surveying the stars on display. Stars in positions that he couldn’t fully recognize, stars from charts that they have definitely not studied. “What are we looking at?” 

Jaebeom didn’t answer. Youngjae waited for a few moments, and when he still didn’t continue, he turned to look at Jaebeom. The older’s eyes were filled with so much emotion as they took in the constellations around them—filled with confusion and anguish and resentment.

“Jaebeom?” 

A beat passed before a small smile tugged on the corners of his lips—an ingenuine smile that was barely there. 

“It’s the star charts of the USS Kelvin’s last recorded coordinates.” Jaebeom sighed as his eyes scanned the starscape. “The same stars that surrounded my father on the day he died.” 

Youngjae reached for his hand and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze. “I’m sure he didn’t want to leave you.” 

Jaebeom sighed before turning his hand over and intertwining their fingers. Youngjae followed naturally. There were so many things about them yet undefined but the one thing they could always count on with one another was comfort and confidence.

“They were able to recover a new recording, you know? Officially, the record says it’s the last transmission the Kelvin ever made, but…” Jaebeom paused, trying to find the right words. “It was...he sent a message to my mom and I...I couldn’t even read the transcript and I can’t…” 

He let out a shuddering breath. Youngjae’s hold on him tightened.

“To know that it’s out there, for anyone to find or hear. That it’s a part of official records when it’s something so personal to me…” 

Youngjae put his arm around Jaebeom’s shoulders and pulled him close, sitting in silence together under the daunting display of alien constellations above them. 

He seemed to hesitate for a moment but Youngjae told him in the quietest, most gentle voice. “Happy birthday, hyung.” Jaebeom didn’t flinch even as the younger continued to speak candidly—he was the only one who could greet him like this and get away with it. “I know you don’t like today because it reminds you of something so terrible, and part of you blames yourself for things that were _completely_ out of your control—and you shouldn’t—but I hope you also remember that this day, all those years ago, gave us you.”

Jaebeom turned to bury his face against Youngjae’s neck, not trusting his voice to be steady enough to say anything or the tears that threatened his eyes not to fall. This just made the younger draw him in closer, turning to envelop him in a full, tight hug that Jaebeom eagerly returned, hands clutching the other’s back for dear life. 

“You matter to us, hyung.” Youngjae supplied when the older still didn’t speak. “You matter to me.”

—

The first year that it was released, Jaebeom felt something truly vile crawl up his throat. He was on his way to the Academy to meet with Jinyoung and celebrate his new job as a flight instructor over lunch when the newsfeeds began buzzing. The press had somehow gotten a hold of and was to release a newly-uncovered, previously unheard transmission from the 2258.42 disaster, nearing 5 years after the ship’s demise. 

“ _To remind us of the sacrifices that our brave men and women make to ensure the freedom and safety of all Federation worlds_.” 

That had been the excuse. And Jaebeom bought none of it. 

When the recording played, he felt his heart drop to the pits of the earth. A soothing voice filled his ears—and simultaneously, the ears of thousands—that he hadn’t heard in such a long time. 

“ _Jaebeom, I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to hear this, but I do know I’m not getting out of this alive..._ ” 

—

It was a few weeks away from the New Year and the recorded transmission that was recently recovered was being played everywhere. Youngjae commed him immediately after the news broke out, his voice wrought with concern when he spoke. “Jaebeom-hyung, please call me. I’m really worried.” 

He let out a sigh as he sent a message: _On vacation. See you in 2258. Happy new year, Youngjae._

—

His comm blared the very second the audio recording on television stopped and Mark’s name was flashing frantically on the screen. Jaebeom knew better than to decline a call from the eldest of their group, so without much hesitation, he pressed the device against his right ear. 

“Jaebeom, I just saw the news and God, I’m so sorry.” Mark’s tone was incredulous, angry, and worried all at once. “I can’t believe they would do such a thing, those bastards.” 

“I could. They’ve done it once.” Jaebeom let out a breath. “You know they love anything that can be spun into a good story—especially tragedy.” 

Mark sighed defeatedly. “I know, but I wanted to check on _you._ ” 

Between it being Remembrance Day and an incredibly upsetting audio recording, Jaebeom didn’t feel too great. But feelings—talking about them with anyone that wasn’t Youngjae, especially—were never his strong suit and he didn’t want to worry Mark even more. 

“I’m okay,” was all he managed to say. “I’m okay.” 

— 

When the clock struck 12, Jaebeom looked upward to watch both pyrotechnic and holographic displays fill the skies. Even from where he was standing—an inconspicuous hill in the middle of an empty field miles away from the Academy’s grounds—he could hear the explosions, the music, the lilt of voices simultaneously shouting “Happy New Year!” It would have made him smile if the stunt that Starfleet pulled with the media didn’t make him sick to his stomach. 

He sat down on the grass with a bottle of whiskey in one hand. He remembered his grandfather telling him how much his father drank the stuff, so he snuck into the Officers’ Club and absconded with a whole bottle. It was the least they could do for him after the recording’s release; they could give him detention, maybe even an academic hearing, but he couldn’t care less at that point.

The transmission was of his father’s voice, bidding his mother a heart-wrenching goodbye, lightheartedly suggesting what to name their son and to take care of him as if he wasn’t about to drive his ship against the monstrosity that was the Narada—a vessel that, according to speculations, was nearly thrice the size of the Kelvin. 

He had to give the press credit for finding the audio; he knew it would have been difficult. If any good came out of the entire fiasco, it’s that Jaebeom now knew that at least his name was something his father gave him. That he was thinking of him too, his newborn son, as he prepared to sacrifice himself for the sake of everyone onboard the Kelvin, for the sake of the planet—for the sake of his family. 

His mother wouldn’t have told him that. Everything he knew about his father, the Kelvin and its untimely fate, he knew from his grandfather. He wouldn’t have known that he was born in one of the Kelvin’s escape pods mere minutes before the battle against the Narada if it weren’t for him. 

But now that Jaebeom was far away from home and his grandfather had passed, he had no one left to talk to. None that will understand how he truly felt. Not about the hurt of celebrating his birthday on the exact same day his father died, not about being reminded of it every single year on Memorial Day, not about drifting apart from his mother because of her unwillingness to talk about… everything. She never said it, but he knew she detested him; he was, after all, a child that constantly reminded her of the death of her husband.

Just as he was about to take a swig of whiskey, his comm blared from where he’d set it down on the grass beside him. Youngjae’s name appeared on-screen. 

There was _one_ person.

Jaebeom accepted the call and immediately told Youngjae where he was, ready to share the stolen whiskey and have welcome company.

Youngjae got there not even thirty minutes later, looking all kinds of exhausted and disheveled. 

“Did you _run_?” The older asked incredulously, laughter bubbling up in his chest and spilling carefully into the night. 

“Uh, yeah?” Youngjae said as if it was obvious. “You sent me a message weeks ago saying you’d see us in 2258. You have no idea how worried we were—how worried _I_ was.” 

Jaebeom muttered a quick apology as the younger sat beside him on the grass. The sounds of fireworks and New Years parties raging all over San Francisco still clung to the air, and the skies were still bright with lights. He could picture his friends ringing in the new year at the K-7, the club they frequented, since none of them went home for the holidays, and he wondered if that’s where Youngjae had been. If he was having a great time surrounded by great company only to drop it all for Jaebeom. 

“I really thought 2257 was going to end without me seeing you.” The younger let out something that was in the middle of a scoff and a chuckle. “I left the others at the K-7.” 

So he was right. That made Jaebeom duck his head as a flush crept up his cheeks. “You didn’t have to.” 

The younger laughed at that, like the idea was ridiculous to him. “I guess, but I _wanted_ to.” Youngjae made a move to lay down on the grass, but Jaebeom momentarily stopped him. The older laid down first with an arm outstretched beside him, gesturing for Youngjae to rest his head on it. He let out another laugh as he followed his hyung, resting his head on Jaebeom’s arm as he lay close to him.

The absconded bottle of whiskey now lay forgotten on the grass as they looked up at the starry skies above—dotted every so often with the few remaining fireworks of New Years. Jaebeom’s mind flitted to the star charts of the Kelvin’s last voyage that he and Youngjae looked at in the observatory, and sighed deeply as the recording played in his mind again. 

Youngjae must have noticed because he reached out for Jaebeom’s free hand, rubbing soothing circles onto his palms and knuckles. “Do you feel like talking about it?”

Jaebeom thought it over. “I don’t know.” 

The younger turned to look at him directly and he returned the gaze. In this setting—illuminated only by moonlight while his head lay on Jaebeom’s arm and the evening breeze lightly tousled his hair—Youngjae had Jaebeom’s heart clenching. He wanted to reach out, to caress his face or kiss him, but he did none of that, instead choosing to keep silent as he held his gaze. 

“You know I’ll listen.” Youngjae said. “I always do.”

“I know.” Jaebeom answered because he _did_ know. “It’s just—It’s too new and I haven’t—my mind hasn’t wrapped around it yet. My thoughts have constantly been running a mile a minute and I have no idea what to think or feel yet, I really don’t.” 

Youngjae nodded with a patient, understanding look on his face. Jaebeom entertained a fleeting thought he didn’t deserve him. “Well...have you at least given any thought to the fact that our final year at Starfleet Academy’s coming to an end?” He asked and Jaebeom was grateful for the distraction. “We’re graduating soon.”

“It still feels so surreal.” Jaebeom admitted. “Joining Starfleet has been such a life-long dream, it hasn’t really sunk in that it’s about to happen so soon.” 

“I know what you mean.” The younger turned his eyes back to the evening sky. The vastness of space was waiting just beyond it, now so close within their reach. He stretched out an arm and traced the Eridanus constellation visible on the December sky with his fingers. “I’ve wanted to join Starfleet expeditions ever since I was a little kid. I had plenty of books on the different Federation worlds, how they became allies, where they are in the galaxies and the star systems that surround them.”

Jaebeom chuckled fondly at that. Where his love for space was more rooted in adventure, Youngjae’s has always been more about both the history and the beauty of the universe. 

“Every time my grandparents and I went stargazing in their small farmhouse in Georgia, I always told them I wanted to be among the constellations.” Youngjae was the one who chuckled this time as he put on an exaggerated Southern accent. “ _I wanna see the stars up close and be with them, ‘maw!”_

“Have you _ever_ sounded like that?” Jaebeom laughed as he looked at Youngjae, unable to imagine him with the thick accent. The younger man looked both amused and embarrassed, and the only answer he gave was, _I am not going to comment._

“So you did!” He teased as Youngjae continued to deny it. 

“Shut up before I get started on your Midwestern accent, Iowa boy!” Youngjae playfully smacked Jaebeom on the chest, but the teasing did not cease. 

The two of them lay there on the grass, underneath the bright stars, laughing well into the dawn before exhaustion began to take hold and they ended up napping right there in that field, in each other’s arms.

Jaebeom was the first to wake, looking at Youngjae’s peaceful sleeping face and thinking that this wasn’t such a bad way to spend the first few hours of the first day of the new year. 

2258.1

—

There was a very specific feeling of defeat that grabbed hold of Jaebeom’s chest as soon as he stepped out of his housing. 

_It’s happening again_ , he thought to himself. 

— 

Jaebeom spent the first month of 2258 again isolating himself from everybody else. Starfleet Academy was huge enough that he was able to dodge Mark, Jinyoung, Bambam, and Yugyeom even when a lot of their classes were in the same or neighboring buildings. Jackson and Youngjae were a little more difficult to avoid since their housings were in the same building and in the same wing too, but he managed it all the same. 

His comms pinged daily with messages and missed calls from the six of them. They were respectful enough to give him space and not head straight to his door, but every single day they all commed. 

Every single day, he tossed it aside, focusing instead on the piles of homework his instructors gave him in an attempt to distract himself.

He was about to pour himself a cup of coffee when his front door pinged and the tell-tale sliding of its hydraulics reached his ears. Jaebeom set down the pot as quickly as he could and rushed out to the living room, wary that it was an intruder or worse, another one of those vultures from the press that have been hounding him since the recording’s release.

“It’s just me!” Youngjae exclaimed, raising his hands in a placating gesture. 

Jaebeom wanted to get mad, but he couldn’t. With Youngjae, he never could. “How did you get in here?” 

Youngjae raised a small, squarish contraption in his right hand. It looked like a housing access card, only much smaller, a black hue rather than the usual blue and red, and with more intricate grooves. “Mark-hyung gave this to me.” He put it in the pocket of his pants. “Didn’t wanna ask where he got it because I might get in trouble, too.”

Jaebeom scoffed. “Oh, you definitely will.” Master Access wasn’t exactly a commodity that was afforded to everyone, and was definitely not something that should have been in the possession of a cadet. “I was pouring myself some coffee. Do you want a cup?” 

“Sure. Thank you, hyung.” 

Youngjae made his way onto the couch as Jaebeom disappeared into the kitchen. It was situated right in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows because Jaebeom loved passing time watching ships dock and take off, and it also offered a perfect view of the bay and the bridge. Alcatraz was visible from there, too; like an out-of-place relic amidst the modern machinery that was abundant in the city of San Francisco.

“Your housing’s really got such a nice view, Beommie-hyung.” Youngjae called out to say like he has a thousand times before every time he crashed at Jaebeom's housing, eyes glued to the USS Intrepid all the way across campus, just barely visible behind its open hangar doors. 

Jaebeom reappeared in the living room just as he said that with two mugs in hand. He handed one to Youngjae, keeping one to himself as he sat right next to him and looked out the window too, acutely aware of their shoulders touching.

In the silence that settled, Youngjae slowly laid his head on Jaebeom’s shoulder. The older responded by wrapping an arm around Youngjae’s shoulders, pulling him in a bit closer so that he was instead leaning against Jaebeom’s chest with his head tucked safely underneath the older’s chin. Jaebeom hummed in contentment as he took a very careful sip of his drink; sometimes he wished he could stay here just like this, sipping a warm mug of coffee with Youngjae in his campus housing as they took in the view of Starfleet and its Academy. No reporters, no curious glances and hushed whispers, no pressure or expectations hanging above his head left behind by the legacy and tragedy of his father.

“What, no barrage of questions?” Jaebeom looked down at Youngjae with an eyebrow raised. 

Youngjae shook his head in response, the movement rustling the soft fabric of Jaebeom’s hoodie. “Nah, I’m just here to give you some company.” 

The older nodded appreciatively, not trusting himself to respond properly to that.

“I know you’ll share when you’re ready.” Youngjae muttered. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now with the—” He caught himself and chuckled, affectionately nudging Jaebeom’s jaw with the top of his head in apology and Jaebeom leaned in to the touch. “What I meant to say was, what do you think of the Intrepid?” 

The older was thankful for the focus being taken away from him and he knew that the younger knew that. Youngjae looked back towards the hangar and Jaebeom followed his line of sight. Like minutes ago, there wasn’t much to see from that distance, but it was easy to tell there was a large, powerful ship just behind the heavy doors of the hangar.

“Extremely cool.” He said, noticing the way Youngjae looked at it with pride. “Might be my pick if I wasn’t so set on the Enterprise.” 

Youngjae was trying, and failing miserably, to suppress a smile. “Starfleet Command offered me a position.” 

“No way.” Jaebeom perked up, angling towards Youngjae so he could properly look at him. 

“Right after graduation, I’m getting onboard.” The smile that was on his face grew brighter. Those wide smiles of his that crinkled his eyes and turned them into endearing crescents. A smile so warm and infectious, it made Jaebeom feel butterflies every single time without fail.

“Youngjae, I’m so happy for you.” Jaebeom said sincerely as warmth and pride bloomed in his chest. Without hesitation, he set down his mug to hug him and Youngjae returned it just as quickly, also setting his mug down on the center table. His hold on Youngjae tightened as the reality of it suddenly hit him—they’d be on two different starships that would be assigned on completely different missions, most definitely on completely different worlds. “Although I’m just sad that we might not see each other as often once we start going off-world.” 

“Oh, please.” Youngjae chuckled, still not breaking away from the hug. “You disappear for months at a time when you feel like it, that’s virtually the same.” 

“Still.” Jaebeom laughed softly, finally pulling away but still holding both of Youngjae’s hands in his. “It’s different when it’s by choice, you know.” 

Youngjae sighed, even though there were still remnants of a smile on his face. “By _your_ choice.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Jaebeom’s chuckles eventually died down to become a soft, wistful smile on his face. “It’s going to be _really_ different this time, though.” His expression turned serious. “We’ll be on different planets, sometimes even different galaxies. Time will run differently for us while we’re apart; a minute on a world you’re assigned to visit could be months on a world I’ll go to. We might not see each other for years.” 

The younger gazed down thoughtfully at their hands. He looked as if he’d mulled over the idea before, as if he already knew Jaebeom was going to say this and he was ready for it. “Maybe even _decades_ , hyung.” A melancholic smile made its way onto his face. “Or maybe we’d never see each other again.” 

A heavy silence fell over them. A silence thick with years’ worth of unspoken words and actions not taken. It felt suffocating to Jaebeom because he knew he was mostly to blame. Their friends had always encouraged them, Youngjae had never wavered and always stayed by his side through the uncertainty, and yet he chose to stay afraid to open himself up to the possibility of everything they could be and settled for all that they currently were.

Youngjae gazed at him, as if trying to gauge what to say and whether or not to say it. Eventually, he let out a quick breath. 

“Jaebeom, there’s something I—”

_“Attention all Starfleet Personnel. Please proceed immediately to your designated ships.”_

Sirens began blaring as the announcement reached their ears and Jaebeom and Youngjae looked at one another. 

_“Primary Fleet currently out of range. All cadets report to Hangar One for ship assignment and briefing.”_

The message repeated itself as the sirens continued, becoming more deafening and foreboding with every second that passed. Through the windows of Jaebeom’s housing, they could see red lights flashing from all corners of Starfleet’s offices and the Academy. The remaining officers that weren’t off-world rushed out of the buildings in uniforms of red, blue, and yellow, while cadets began filtering out of the Academy still in their red uniforms. 

“What do you think is happening?” Jaebeom stood by the window, examining the scene unfolding before him and wondering what could have happened that put Starfleet at such high alert. Was there an imminent threat? Was one of the Federation worlds in trouble?

“Whatever it is, it isn’t good and I’m worried.” Youngjae answered as he set for Jaebeom’s room where he always left one of his cadet reds and some of his clothes just in case. “Come on, let’s get dressed.” 

+

The hangar was already in chaos when they arrived. Hundreds of cadets were rushing past and around them, racing to the shuttles of their assigned ships. Barracks leaders were standing on platforms where they were surrounded by more cadets that were waiting for their ship assignments to be called out. 

Jaebeom and Youngjae were standing side-by-side, already in their cadet reds, holding one another’s hands tightly. Youngjae’s features were schooled into a neutral expression as he watched the scene around him, but Jaebeom could tell that deep down, he was terrified—he was, too. It wasn’t even that he was having doubts about having joined Starfleet Academy—it's always been his dream and he’d never been more sure of anything else—it was just that he couldn’t shake the memory of his father and the last expedition he’d ever made.

The younger probably began to feel Jaebeom’s stare because he turned to him with a soft smile and gave a gentle squeeze on the hand he’d been holding. 

“We’ll be fine.” Youngjae said with a tight smile. Jaebeom saw right through it but elected to stay silent. “Just think of it as another off-world flight exam. You’re going to ace it and we’re going to celebrate with the others down at K-7—”

_“Youngjae Choi! USS Intrepid!”_

With a quick nod, Youngjae moved to leave for the shuttle to the Intrepid, but Jaebeom grabbed him by the wrist before he could get far. He stopped in his tracks and faced Jaebeom, a confused look painted on his features. 

“Youngjae…” He started, but had no idea how to continue. Like always, the cowardice took hold of whatever words were beginning to bubble at the back of his throat, and like always, Youngjae was patient with him. 

_“Jaebeom Im! USS Enterprise!”_

He took a quick glance at the Barracks Leader that called his name; they were still calling out cadets but he knew they had to get to the shuttles now. The sirens were still blaring and the officers were still running; whatever unnamed threat was waiting for them outside Earth still posed a lot of danger and they had to leave soon.

“Just...keep your comm at the ready. Keep it on you at all times.” Jaebeom settled on saying. “If anything happens or anything feels off, comm me. I’ll beam to the Intrepid, no questions asked.” 

Youngjae’s eyes softened and a small, indiscernible, but completely genuine smile graced his lips. “I will, hyung. But you have to promise me the same thing.” 

Jaebeom sighed both in relief and worry. “I will. You know I will.” 

He pulled the younger in for a bone-crushing hug, planting a quick, soft kiss atop Youngjae’s head before they pulled away and parted ways. 

+

Jaebeom and his friends did a quick check on everyone via comms as soon as they rode their respective shuttles. Jackson was assigned to the Enterprise with him, Jinyoung was the only one on the USS Endeavour, Mark and Yugyeom were together on the USS Korolev, Bambam was flying solo on the USS Defiant, and alone on the USS Intrepid was Youngjae. 

“Everyone feeling okay?” Jinyoung asked as the images of his friends flickered on the holo-screen of his communication device. A chorus of voices sounded as almost everyone answered at the same time, trying to talk over one another even from completely different ships. “Have you all boarded?” 

“No, but we’re close to the Enterprise.” Jackson answered for himself and Jaebeom.

Mark and Yugyeom spoke in unison. “Our shuttle’s just about to dock.” 

“Same here!” Bambam exclaimed excitedly as he was probably the only one who had no worries about their first real off-world mission. 

From Youngjae’s screen, the rest of the boys could see that he was already walking. “Well, we’re already on the Intrepid. We’ll probably go into warp drive in a little while so we’ll most likely get there before you.” 

“Do you know what it is yet?” Jaebeom finally spoke, the sight of Youngjae walking the halls of the Intrepid alone suddenly making him feel antsy. 

“Starfleet received a distress call from Vulcan. The Primary Fleet is currently unreachable on the Laurentian System so they had no choice but to mobilize cadets to respond.” Youngjae explained as he continued walking towards the command room. “The Valiant and the Lexington warped to Vulcan before anyone else, but now they’re uncontactable too.” 

“I don’t like the sound of any of this, for the record.” Bambam said.

Mark chuckled nervously. “I don’t think any of us do.” 

“I’m almost to the Bridge. I’ve got to go.” Youngjae announced and smiled at all of them, eyes lingering a little longer on Jaebeom. “I’ll see you guys on Vulcan.” 

+

Jackson and Jaebeom quickly realized that they were way in over their heads and out of their depth. With the absence of the helmsman, Captain Pike asked Jaebeom to take the ship’s controls along with Jackson, one other cadet, and two seasoned Starfleet personnel. 

He knew Pike knew his father, and that was keeping him on edge. It felt like all of his life had led to this one moment here. To him piloting a ship just like his father did, to him flying with Captain Pike just like he did. The Captain must have sensed his worries because he looked him dead in the eye with kind eyes and gave him a reassuring nod. That, Jackson’s supportive hand on his shoulder, and the thought of seeing Youngjae on Vulcan gave him the ease he needed.

“Ship’s ready for warp, Captain.” He said as he began to work the controls. 

“Set course for Vulcan.” 

“Course laid in.” 

“Maximum warp. _Punch it_.” 

+

“Engines at Maximum Warp, Captain.” Jaebeom informed Pike once the journey was underway. As the bridge crew continued to monitor the ship’s systems and trajectory, he took some time to breathe. 

That was immediately cut short as their navigator, Chekov, said something that caught his attention. 

“What did you say?” Jaebeom whipped his head in the direction of Chekov and asked abruptly. The young navigator seemed taken aback by the sudden reaction to his speech. 

“Our mission is to assess the condition of Vulcan and assist in evacuations, if necessary?” 

Jaebeom fervently shook his head. “No, before that.” When his fellow cadet looked at him confusedly, he frantically said: “What the telemetry detected!” 

“T-there's an anomaly in the Neutral Zone surrounding Vulcan? It appeared to be a lightning storm in space.” 

Jackson noticed the frightened look in Jaebeom’s eyes as he asked again. “Gone as soon as it came?” 

“Yes.” 

With that, Jaebeom bolted out of the bridge.

+

“Youngjae? Youngjae!” He called frantically into his comm as soon as Youngjae picked up the call. 

“Hyung? I’m here, what’s going on?” 

“The anomaly—the lightning storm in space that the telemetry caught.” Jaebeom rushed to explain. “It’s the same one that occurred the day I was born.” 

Youngjae’s eyebrows creased in worry. “So...the Narada...?” 

“Was never seen or heard from again after its encounter with the Kelvin. It’s like they appeared out of nowhere when the anomaly came, and disappeared just as easily.” He continued. “I don’t like this, Youngjae, please tell your Captain to turn back.” 

“I can’t, Beom.” 

“Youngjae—” 

“We’re already in the Vulcan System.” 

+

“Cadet Im! Why did you abandon your post?” Pike asked as soon as he ran back to the bridge. 

Jaebeom quickly explained everything he knew about the anomaly and everything he posited about the missing monstrosity that was the Narada. Pike and the bridge crew listened to him report without interruption. “We’re warping into a trap, sir. The Romulans aboard the Narada will be waiting for us, I can almost guarantee it.” 

Pike then looked to their communications officer. “Scan Vulcan space, check if any transmissions are being made in Romulan.”

“Sir, I’m—not sure I could distinguish the Romulan language from Vulcan.” 

“Is there anyone who speaks Romulan?” 

“I do.” Jackson raised his hand tentatively. “Cadet Wang, sir. I can speak all three Romulan dialects.” 

Jackson then relieved the comms officer of his post and put the earpiece on. “Captain, I pick up no Romulan transmissions—or transmissions of any kind in the area.”

“They’re being attacked.” Jaebeom said matter-of-factly, and the gravity of his own words hit him like a truck. The Endeavour, the Korolev, the Defiant, and the Intrepid; all of his friends were aboard them and none of them were responding.

A long, tense beat passed. 

“Shields up. Ready all weapons.” 

+

The first thing that greeted them when they dropped out of warp and arrived on the Vulcan system was the flaming hull of a Starfleet ship. The name on the burning remains read _U.S.S Korolev_ and Jaebeom hoped against all hope that Mark and Yugyeom made it out in time. 

Right ahead, the Narada was floating threateningly above Vulcan. Their eyes went wide at the monumental size of the ship and Jaebeom felt a shudder wrack his entire body at the sight of it. After years of not being able to put a face to the ship that was the reason for his father’s demise, it was finally right in front of him—no longer a formless, faceless object, but a concrete and very real thing. 

They had all been so shocked that none of them noticed the powerful torpedoes that the Narada fired at them. 

+

Jaebeom woke up in the sickbay of a completely different ship. He felt dizzy and disoriented, but nothing felt broken or extremely painful, at the very least. Mark and Yugyeom were lying awake on beds on the other side of the room, while Jinyoung sat quietly next to a still-unconscious Jackson. 

“Jinyoung?” He asked confusedly and his friend ran to his side, worry etched all over his features.

“You’re okay. You’re on the Endeavour, it’s alright.” 

Jaebeom looked around, scanning the faces of the cadets in the medbay, trying to look for two missing people. 

“Bambam?” He asked. “Youngjae?” 

“The Defiant’s evacuating Vulcan. The Romulans came with the intent to obliterate the entire planet with a weapon they have aboard their ship.” Jinyoung explained. 

A wave of nausea hit Jaebeom as he asked: “And Youngjae?” 

Jinyoung paused for a brief moment. “The Intrepid’s still on the Vulcan system. They’re trying to buy the Defiant some time while they beam Vulcans onboard so everyone can be saved. The Farragut arrived to help them.” 

“Buy some time?” The nausea worsened and Jaebeom tried to sit up and leave the bed, only to stumble as soon as his feet hit the ground. Jinyoung caught him by the shoulders and guided him to lie back down. 

“He’ll be fine.” Jinyoung tried to reassure him. “His comms are still on. He checked on you a minute ago. He promised to let us know as soon as anything happens.” 

The implication that anything _could_ happen made Jaebeom even dizzier. 

+

It took all of five minutes for Jaebeom to get up out of his bed in the medbay and run to the Endeavour’s bridge once he heard the navigator’s voice on the transmission screen. Jinyoung chased after him, insisting that he had to take at least one of the hypospray injections to feel better, but Jaebeom couldn’t hear anything else. 

“The Farragut has been destroyed. Survivors will be transported to the Endeavour via pods with the assistance of personnel from the Intrepid.” 

“The Intrepid—that means Youngjae’s getting out of there now, too, right?” Jaebeom said absent-mindedly, eyes fixed on the vastness of space ahead of them; they were still a long way from home. 

When Jinyoung didn’t speak, Jaebeom turned to see him looking intently at the screen in his hands. The younger man had a look of surprise on his face that made Jaebeom’s head swirl with anxiety. When Jinyoung looked up, his eyes were wide with confusion. “It’s Youngjae.” 

“What do you mean? What’s with Youngjae?” 

“He’s—he’s transmitting from the Intrepid.” Jinyoung said shakily. “I’m tracking the passengers of both the Farragut and the Intrepid to prepare the medbay for them but—” 

Jaebeom started to feel dizzy again. “What is it, Jinyoung? Just say it.” 

“Youngjae’s the only one still on the Intrepid.” He responded. “And there are no escape pods left.” 

“No.” Jaebeom said firmly. “No, what is he thinking?” Jaebeom made a move to accept the transmission but Jinyoung stopped him before he could reach it.

“This isn’t from his personal communicator.” He explained as he led the way back to the sickbay. “He’s probably calling the ship’s medbay because he knows it’s where I’m assigned, but if I patch this through, this’ll be displayed on all the available transmission screens of the Endeavour.” 

“I can isolate it.” Jaebeom explained. “Not to a single screen, but maybe to the transmission screens in the medbay.” 

Even as Jaebeom said it, a terrible feeling gripped his gut. A strong feeling of the most cruel déjà vu; him sitting in sickbay, being hailed by someone he valued on another ship, the Narada nearby. He no longer paid it any mind, focusing instead on limiting the reach of Youngjae’s call just so he can talk to him, ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing and why he hadn’t left the Intrepid yet. 

When the call came through and Youngjae’s face flooded the screen, Jaebeom felt weak in the knees. He looked in obvious distress, but his eyes were also set with a determination he’d never seen on him before. It didn’t take long for Jaebeom and the rest of the gang to realize that Youngjae was transmitting from the Intrepid’s bridge, sitting on the captain’s seat with hands on the manual controls of the ship.

 _“Hyung?”_

“Youngjae? Youngjae, come on—” Jaebeom began to speak. 

_“Jinyoung-hyung, my comm broke. Could you tell Jaebeom-hyung that I’m sorry about that? I promised I’d keep it on me at all times, but the Intrepid took a pretty bad hit and it got smashed.”_

Yugyeom took a sharp breath. “The receiver’s probably broken. He can’t see or hear us.” 

_“Captain Emick was killed. He left me in command before he did.”_ Youngjae continued, unaware of the suffocating grip that had taken hold of Jaebeom’s chest. _“Everyone on the Farragut is safe, as well as the Intrepid. They’ve all been evacuated and they should get there to you soon.”_

 _Then why didn’t you join them?_ Jaebeom thought as he stood frozen. 

_“The Intrepid’s autopilot is busted. The Narada took a hit too but it doesn’t look like it’s be enough to stop them. They’re correcting their course to follow the escape pods. Eventually, they’ll find the Endeavour; for sure, they’ll find Earth, too."_ A small smile made its way onto his face. “ _As acting Captain of the Intrepid, I can’t let that happen.”_

“No, Youngjae, _no._ ” Jaebeom spoke even as he knew he wouldn’t be heard. Jinyoung moved to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder but it did nothing to calm the turmoil he felt inside. 

Youngjae reached for the acceleration lever, his right hand staying steady above it and not wanting to move yet. He looked deep in thought even as his line of sight was looking at something far outside of the frame—the Narada, for sure.

 _“Jaebeom, I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to hear this, but I do know I’m not getting out of this alive so I might as well just get this off my chest."_ Jaebeom felt his heart sink at the mention of his name. The three other patients that were awake besides his friends had their eyes on him now and he knew they recognized him as the tragic child of the Kelvin disaster, about to suffer another heartbreak thanks to the very same enemy ship. _“You know how I said we’d probably not see each other for decades? That we’d probably never see each other again for good? I only mentioned it because the thought frightened me.”_

Jaebeom looked intently at the screen, at Youngjae’s face, as if he was trying to memorize his face, to commit it to his deepest memories. 

_“I know there’s a lot of things unclear between us, but when Starfleet offered me a position on the Intrepid, it put a lot of things into perspective. All of a sudden, I couldn’t handle the thought of being away from the homeworld for too long, and it was weird to me because it had always been my dream to be part of Starfleet expeditions. Like I always said, I wanted to be among the constellations. To see them up close, to be with them."_ Youngjae chuckled a little. _“It was even weirder to me when I realized that it wasn’t because I wanted to stay on Earth; it wasn’t that I was going to be homesick or that the idea of visiting unfamiliar galaxies was daunting. I realized it was because I didn’t want to be too far from you for too long. That if I were to see different worlds, I'd want it to be with you. It's so cheesy, so ridiculous, but it's true."_

Jaebeom was kneeling now, staving off the tears that were threatening to fall and trying to even his breathing. No one in the room judged him for it, knowing full well that this was all too difficult to hear. 

_“It’s not that I realized for the first time that I was in love with you._ _”_ Youngjae chuckled again, hand on the lever and slowly beginning to pull. _“I just realized I already knew. All this time, I already knew.”_

Jinyoung shut his eyes, not wanting to see both the demise of Youngjae and the heartbreaking state of his best friend.

 _“I’m in love with you, Jaebeom-hyung”_ With that, he pulled the lever all the way, face suddenly set into a brave and stern expression. _“I always have been.”_

The last thing Jaebeom saw before he broke down was the screen exploding into static.

—

Even after five years, going through Remembrance Day has not been easy. With Memorial Day, Jaebeom felt like he’d already gotten his much-needed closure. The Narada was gone, Pike was there whenever he needed to talk to someone about his father, and he’d learned to just accept that his birth was closely tied with the death of his father but that didn't mean that it was his fault.

Remembrance Day, however, still came with the sting of a thousand regrets. A thousand what-ifs and a million things he wished he could have done completely differently. The recording’s release didn’t help at all, and news outlets had taken to milking the hell out of the unimaginable tragedy of Jaebeom’s life. Two people lost to the Narada, two previously-kept transmissions suddenly released to the public. 

It was the slightest consolation that the old man that served as the caretaker of the observatory he frequently visited closed it on both Remembrance and Memorial Days. The cover had always been that the facility observed remembering the casualties and the atrocities of the two battles, but it was also mostly because the old man had grown fond of Jaebeom and wanted to let him have his alone time not being hounded by the vultures. 

Jaebeom prepared the projector in the middle of the room before sitting down on the same spot he always took in the center. He looked up at the ceiling, taking in the constellations that dotted the dome with a slight frown. He’d seen them a thousand times, even seen them with his very own eyes, but he always felt a bizarre disconnect to them here. 

When he heard the soft clicking of shoes against the marble tiles, he nearly turned around before he caught himself and laughed bitterly. It was just the old man walking towards his own little booth to turn on his little radio.

_“Jaebeom, I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to hear this, but I do know I’m not getting out of this alive—”_

The old man turned the radio off as quickly as he could. Jaebeom turned to look at him with a small smile, and told him that it was okay. He missed Youngjae’s voice. He wanted to hear him.

 _“Like I always said, I wanted to be among the constellations. To see them up close, to be with them.”_ The radio continued when the caretaker turned it back on, and Jaebeom almost laughed at how timely it seemed. He looked back up at the ceiling, at the star charts of the Vulcan system on the exact last recorded coordinates of the USS Intrepid. The constellations that Youngjae was amongst in his final moments. 

The thought of it still pained Jaebeom, but with each passing day, it was at least getting easier to look at the stars, both the ones projected inside the observatory and the real ones that dotted the firmament outside. Especially every time he heard Youngjae’s voice to remind him that he wanted to be among the constellations, that he wanted to see them up close and be with them. In the smallest way, he felt like he could at least reconnect with him through the stars currently on display. Like he was still sitting next to him on the cold marble floors of the observatory the same way he always did whenever Jaebeom hid away during Memorial Day.

The last line of the Intrepid’s final transmission rang out in the observatory then, Youngjae’s soft voice saying, _“I always have been.”_

Jaebeom momentarily closed his eyes as a brief punch of static followed his voice and the caretaker turned the radio back off. When he opened them again, he looked back at the constellations with misty eyes and whispered, “I always have been, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so sorry if it got a little confusing! there are two different timelines, separated by "—". i wanted to make it look like it was following only a single timeline, but you slowly realize along the way that it's occurring during two different years (indicated by Remembrance Day and Memorial Day, and the mention of 2258). of course, separations with "+" indicate a single timeline.
> 
> this was mostly word vomit with little to no development and establishment. i was thinking of making this a series with a different ending but settled for this one-shot for now. maybe i'll pick it up again for a rewrite some time, i don't know.
> 
> thank you so much for reading! ♡
> 
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